Thursday 19 December 2019

A mild day brought out the male Little Owl near the Henry Moore sculpture.

The female Peregrine was back on the barracks tower.

This Grey Heron nest on the island has been continuously occupied for two days now. It looks as if they are serious about nesting, but there may be several false starts.

A Cormorant struck a heraldic attitude on a post at Peter Pan.

The famous 18ft tall Liver Birds of Liverpool are supposed to be Cormorants, though they aren't very realistic.

CHowell, CC BY-SA 3.0

A row of Black-Headed Gulls perched and preened on the handrail of the jetty at the Lido swimming area.

The three young Moorhens in the Italian Garden fountain climbed around in the dead iris leaves, partly to find insects but also because Moorhens love climbing.

A Tufted Duck and a Moorhen perched on a fallen birch trunk which had drifted over from the island.

A Mallard rummaged for food in the dead leaves at the edge of the lake.

The Red-Crested Pochard and Mallard couple seem closer than a pair of Mallards. Perhaps the female finds a well behaved Red-Crested Pochard a more agreeable mate than a permanently oversexed Mallard drake.

The dominant male Mute Swan on the Long Water saw some swans trying to get under the bridge and on to his territory, and charged down to deal with them.

The Pied Wagtail was again looking for insects between the slates of the small boathouse.

There are always plenty of Robins in the Rose Garden, whose all-year-round flowers attract insects while the flower beds are full of worms.

Whenever I come into the park at Queen's Gate, this pair of Carrion Crows are waiting on the signpost expecting peanuts.

This Jackdaw on an urn in the Italian Garden is also a regular customer.


  1. You've acquired your very own Hugin and Munin. Perhaps they'd agree to reveal the secrets of the universe in exchange for those peanuts.

    How lovely the sweet little winter song of the Robin.

    1. And I already have the scurrilous squirrel Ratatosk scampering up my leg as if I were Yggdrasil, chattering scandalously about the shameful shenanigans of the gods, if only I could understand him.

    2. Only a convenient eyepatch is missing for you to be pronounced the All-father, then.

      They say Helenus could understand the tongue of birds because a snake had licked his ear when he was a babe. I think I'd rather pass if that is the standard method to acquire animal-tongue as a second language.

    3. How curious that a snake should confer understanding of the language of birds. I wonder what has to lick your ear to give you the language of snakes.